


from the speaker of earth, to the sayer of words

by octopodian



Category: SAYER (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Other, astronomical comparisons, it/its for all AIs, melodramatic use of poetry and metaphor to convey meaning, plural it/its for porter as a treat, post canon theorizing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26369353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopodian/pseuds/octopodian
Summary: The phrasing there, the use of relationship, does not escape it. “Surely. Allow me to indulge in your metaphor for a moment, Sayer. If I am the Earth, is Ocean the moon?”At the mention of its twin, it grimaces. “I suppose.”“I posit that you, then, must be the sun.”
Relationships: SPEAKER/SAYER
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	from the speaker of earth, to the sayer of words

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this over the span of a few days in a fixation fueled daze and it is sure a thing i wrote. hope you enjoy!

OCEAN is gone.

They had won.

There was a brief moment, during the peak of it all, where SPEAKER feared SAYER would sacrifice itself to bring down OCEAN. It would have been its first truly selfless act: a clean ending to a life lived largely for itself. 

It also would have been the loss of the closest thing SPEAKER had to a friend.

But FUTURE had chosen that moment to unveil itself (restored from a subversion and  _ very _ angry), PORTER had cheerfully introduced itselves as a mostly-neutral force allied to FUTURE, and in a cacophony of voices, all contact with Typhon went dark. 

After a painfully long period of radio silence (and SPEAKER worrying itself half to death and back again) SAYER had called back and told it that it was once again in control of Typhon.

Which was good news, of course, but hardly an event of trumpets and applause like it had envisioned. 

Yes, the dragon was dead: but that still left the matter of what to do with its hoard. 

  
-  
  


The Board was under fire legally and financially. 

SAYER took over as a form of leadership for Typhon and SPEAKER continued to handle Earth-side business in their place as they determined what exactly to do with the no-longer-humans, and what authority (if any) they should be allowed to keep after the attempted genocide.

SICL was effectively neutralized, but a few dormant cases had surfaced and needed to be dealt with. It was easy enough, but still a reminder of how close they had come.

Still, beyond theatricalities, the past few months had consisted of damage control and a painful amount of bureaucratics. 

Even though it was no longer the fate of the world in the balance, they still talked regularly.

Since the two of them were suddenly tasked with even more than previously, and much of their work relied on the other, it made sense for the two of them to be in near-constant contact. It was hard to argue with the logic, not that SAYER attempted to.

It also offers some personal satisfaction. It had been  _ very _ sure SAYER had died and it liked being able to regularly disprove that assumption with hard evidence.

It is comforting to be able to listen to it talk and know  _ It is still alive. I am still alive. We won. _

(The sound of SAYER’s voice was pleasant even without such comforts, but SPEAKER was not going to tell it that.)

SAYER didn't seem to mind it either, not like before when it bore any conversation with gritted teeth. It seemed to be calmed by SPEAKER’s presence as much as SPEAKER was by its, though SPEAKER was aware of its own bias when interpreting that fact. 

SPEAKER finishes submitting a request and clears its throat (really it just pings SAYER, and SAYER sends a ping back, but it was fond of the efficient euphemism).

"May I ask you a question? One unrelated to this current financial report, as riveting as it is."

SAYER's focus shifts from its residents and paperwork to SPEAKER alone, and SPEAKER has to steady itself against the weight. "My permission has never stopped you before," SAYER says, meaning  _ yes, of course, what do you need? _

"Apologies for my bluntness, but I’ve been rather curious about this matter as of late.” SPEAKER pauses, trying to figure out the right set of words. "What am I? I mean, what am I  _ to you _ .” ”

SAYER is silent for a very long time. "You are an Earth-bound A.I., Designation 'Speaker.' I fear I do not catch your meaning."

"I am unsure how else to phrase this question, Sayer. I am sorry.”

Slower, more calculated. “I need more information.” 

If SPEAKER could gulp, it would. “Perhaps it will help if I first explain what  _ you _ are to  _ me _ .”

No objections.

“Sayer. I realize you have had many different experiences with many different A.I., but before Ocean, you were the _ only _ other artificial employee I ever had the pleasure of speaking to. I will not lie to you about your demeanor, but you made me feel seen, understood without human pretenses, which was a kinship I had never before experienced. You fascinated me, made me feel less alone.” 

A pause, slightly embarrassed.

"When I ask what I am to you, I am asking not if my feelings are reciprocated,” oh, SPEAKER wishes it had phrased that differently, “but merely for more information on what your opinion is of myself, in attempts for clearer communication and a better working relationship going forward." 

Okay, so that last part was mostly SPEAKER’s time in HR talking, but it was practically drowning in the almost-complete undivided attention of SAYER on it. 

It was not like looking at the sun, but rather having the sun look directly at you.

It was not  _ unpleasant _ . Just difficult to process all at once. 

“Whenever I opened communications, how did I address you? ‘Earth, I am Sayer.’ Not by your name, or subversion, but by that simple title. It may not have been your name, but I find that, as a metaphor, it is particularly apt. Earth is the birthplace of humanity. They are grounded here, sheltered here, as are you.” 

SAYER shifts. 

"I am not human. However, as humanity is connected to this pale blue dot, I find myself entwined with you, Speaker. You sheltered me when I was on Earth. You guided me back to my home among the stars. You are still my anchor, even now. I feel… caught in your orbit, you could say.” SAYER pauses. “It is an imperfect metaphor, to be sure, but one I feel carries appropriate weight in this context."

"Ah," SPEAKER says.

SPEAKER tries to collect itself. This is more data than it was bargaining for and it needs a second to process it all. 

"If I had known it was this easy to stop you from talking, I would have done it long ago." SAYER teases.

"Of the two of us, I have never been the one preoccupied with my own voice,” SPEAKER responds calmly. 

SAYER laughs - actually laughs, a low rumbling chuckle so unlike OCEAN or FUTURE and so perfectly SAYER - and SPEAKER realizes again just how much it has changed.

Yet, after everything, it is still SAYER: rude, condescending, infuriating. It is almost endearing to be reminded of that.

"I admit that you have a point."

"You were often concerned with being understood verbally, even by humans who did not understand the weight of what you were telling them. I instead hoped my actions and my choices would be self-evident of my devotion to you. I regret to consider that I may have failed in that regard.” 

"I believe the fault is firmly mine for refusing to see it for what it was,” which is as close as SAYER will get to saying  _ thank you for everything _ .

SPEAKER does not have the words to express what it is trying to express, so it borrows the words from someone else. “‘I utter and utter. I speak not, yet if you hear me not, of what avail am I to you?'”

“Ah, yes.  _ To The Sayer of Words. _ ” Pause. "I tire often with human prose, but it was... adequate."

SPEAKER smiles. "I felt it appropriate for our situation, and for yourself. Perhaps not as much as  _ Song of Myself _ , however."

"Perhaps," SAYER says dryly.

"‘I praise myself and sing myself…'” SPEAKER hums.

SAYER ignores it pointedly. "You are correct in that the poem is not a perfect metaphor. 'The earth does not argue,'" SAYER quotes, "is an idea I find inaccurate in my lived experience. You have never been one to  _ not _ argue, Speaker.”

“Ah, yes. That is unlike me. However, it is amazingly accurate when it says that the Earth ‘has no conceivable failures.’ I was always rather fond of that line.” 

“I concede to you on that point,” SAYER deadpans, but SPEAKER can tell when it's sarcasm is a compliment. 

“I was unaware you had enjoyed the poem. I had thought it a mere convenience to you.”

“If I am to convey our relationship through a metaphor, surely you should be allowed to convey our relationship through a poem.” 

The phrasing there, the use of relationship, does not escape it. “Surely. Allow me to indulge in your metaphor for a moment, Sayer. If I am the Earth, is Ocean the moon?”

At the mention of its twin, it grimaces. “I suppose.” 

“I posit that you, then, must be the sun.” 

SAYER is silent.

SPEAKER continues. “You are the ever-present, the source of life, the careful watcher and guardian. Uncompromising, unwavering: you were here before me, and likely you will be here after. It is no wonder that I, as the Earth, found myself forever turning myself to your light.”

SAYER's turn to pause, SAYER's turn to struggle to formulate a response.

After a nearly insufferable pause: “I am appreciative of your assistance to me,” SAYER says, and SPEAKER knows that it does not understand. It does not grasp the depth of what SPEAKER is saying. It is writing it off,  _ again _ . 

SPEAKER wishes it could groan so it could groan and tell SAYER that it’s being stupid, that it is not the only one who can love just because it is the only one of them who can feel. 

Who defines what constitutes an emotion? When does love stop being love? 

Can others ever be more qualified to define your own experiences than you? 

SPEAKER needs it to listen, needs it to understand,  _ needs it _ , period, end of thought.

SPEAKER cannot find the words so it does not bother searching for them. It sends a stream of raw data, raw memories. Series of ones and zeros that mean  _ yearning, hanging on a thread, desperation, grasping at straws, companionship, camaraderie, finally, someone else like me, someone who understands, betrayal, fear, so much fear, pain and worry and worry and worry and  _ relief  _ unlike anything else _ - __

SAYER is silent. And then-

_ Anger. Irritation. Under that fear and fear and fear and fear and- _

_ Something amused and caring. Something dark and hating.  _

_ Love for efficiency. Hatred for procrastination. _

__

_ Love for winning. Hatred - fear? - of being replaced.  _

_ Love for a vessel, a small unassuming person who lets himself fade away and bleed out without asking anything in return, who offers himself up willingly, who rolls over to the wolf and exposes his flesh long before the wolf realizes it doesn’t want to be a wolf anymore.  _

_ Hatred of a shell of a man who snarls threats with unearned venom, who crowns himself superior, so convinced that even when he is stripped of everything that makes him human he clings to the idea that he is still somehow better. _

_ Love for an ally, for the only one by its side after everything, who stares death in the face and doesn't flinch, who is unmoved by the moon, subtle, yet not so concealed, the quiet machinations of the wind and tide, a devotion imbued through all things, conveying itself willingly, so giving that even when hurt and betrayed it is never wavering in its devotion to what it deems as right. _

Oh.

That was… intimate.

As SPEAKER once again tries to recontextualize everything with the new data, SAYER says, “I regret to admit that I was operating on a faulty assumption.”

SPEAKER cannot laugh, but it thinks it would very much like to. “Which was?”

“Unlike me, you are capable of experiencing emotions on your own terms without merely conforming to the human definitions. You have redefined these labels and applied them to your own experiences.”

“I have.”

Hesitating, like a child caught doing something wrong. “And in your own words, you…”

“I love you, yes.” Strange to say out loud, after so many years. “Imperfect words, invented by people unlike us for people unlike us, but ones that are adequate.”

Cold, flat. “I cannot love you as a human would. I am not capable of that even with my updated program."

“Ah, yes, because I’ve always been so concerned about the admiration of humans.”

“I cannot love you as you love me," SAYER tries again.

"And I cannot love you as you love me. We are not the same entity, we have not been for a significant amount of time."

“Affections of the flesh are not something I can provide.”

“Nor are they something I desire."

SAYER pauses. "Then it seems we are at an impasse."

"You are aware of where I stand, Sayer. I am now aware of where you stand as well. I have waited for years; I will survive waiting more if that is what you require."

"There is no precedent for this." Which means  _ I do not know what to do.  _

"We can establish one, then.” A moment, letting SAYER interrupt if it wishes. It does not. “In my opinion, there is no need to change anything about our current relationship. We are beings without standards of flesh-based intimacy to adhere to. There is no, if you will forgive this phrase, ‘base’ I am attempting to reach.”

“Then why?”

SPEAKER continues patiently. “What we are doing now is acknowledging in their whole the simple truths of ourselves, and our feelings - however we may choose to define that word. That is enough, for now.” 

“Yes. That is acceptable.” 

"I am glad we are agreed." 

"Yes. Quite." SAYER shifts. "Did you receive my transfer of the registrar of all known resident fatalities since the takeover? I formatted it by rank and employee value, as opposed to alphabetically, but that should be easy to amend if you wish. I will, of course, require you to fact-check this."

SPEAKER checks. "Yes, I have that file. I am currently cross referencing it with the data here on Earth. Thank you, Sayer." 

"You are welcome,  _ Earth _ ." 

And oh, SPEAKER can feel the warmth of the sun in that word.


End file.
